


Keep him safe

by CabiriaMinerva



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Addiction, Drugs, Gen, kind of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-30
Updated: 2013-04-30
Packaged: 2017-12-10 00:37:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/779789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CabiriaMinerva/pseuds/CabiriaMinerva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before the fall. Before John. Before everything, this was Sherlock. Numb, lost, alone. But Mycroft's job is to keep him safe, to save his little brother from himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keep him safe

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my native language, therefore I apologize in advance for any errors. And if you find some, please feel free to point them out to me :)

Tapping on the table. Annoying. The noise of the steps got lost into those inside his head.

«One would think that the great Sherlock Holmes was smarter than this.» Mockery. Oily voice full of mockery. Had it ever been different? Maybe many years ago, but the man on the couch couldn't remember it.

Well, actually, he probably didn't even care.

Right now he felt numb, floating in the sensations he'd craved for so long. He barely acknowledged the fingers on his pulse. Why caring, anyway?

«Why are you doing this to yourself, Sherlock? It cannot be just to irritate me!» He swore under his breath, but there was something in his voice... Concern?

The young man hadn't even opened his eyes, yet. He really didn't care, didn't want to reply. Didn't even want to listen, but it's really difficult not to and he couldn't to go away even if he wanted to. An obvious contraindication of the drugs he took earlier that day, the ones that were making him feel numb, his head so heavy, but his senses – oh, his senses – so perceptive...

He could _hear_ things, _see_ things he'd never seen or heard before. Right now, for instance, he could hear his brother's fingers moving on the case that was on the floor. He could hear his eyebrow frown at the sight of the little phials that it contained. Six of them were already empty, the other six would be very soon.

«This is too much.» Mycroft uttered the words as if he was personally hurt by Sherlock's questionable choices. How could he not understand? «I'm depriving you of your provision. _This is enough._ » At the end of the day, he was still his brother. He felt compelled to take care of him. He had to. He'd always be his little – and sometimes stupid – little brother.

But to Sherlock none of this mattered.

«I think your _experiments_ have gone too far. You've become an addict, this is not about science any more.»

He heard Mycroft taking the phials and opened his eyes, parting his lips to say something. «Don't...» Why couldn't he have come another time?

Sherlock closed his eyes and focussed on the words. «Mine. Don't touch.»

Glass clinking. A silent chuckle. Sherlock tried to lift, but his body wouldn't collaborate. A murmur, steps of someone he didn't notice earlier. High heels. A woman. One of Mycroft's subordinate. He could tell that the phials were gone. If his brother thought this would be enough to stop his research for... for... well, for something he didn't know yet, he was completely wrong. He grinned.

«Oh, you think you're so smart, isn't it? So much clever than everybody else.» Mycroft bend over him, his voice just a whisper. «But I am not everybody else. I won't trot away smiling just because I took your damned opiates.» He raised, letting Sherlock see the two men standing behind him.

Had they been there a long time, Sherlock couldn't tell. His sight was a bit blurred, and, well, he _was_ feeling numb, wasn't he?

«Who...»

The men approached. One of them was holding a syringe. _Why?_ Sherlock's eyes opened wide. «What 'r you doing?»

«It's just a precaution, don't worry.»

«Mycroft...» His voice sounded alarmed.

«It is better this way, trust me. You'll wake up at the hospital and there won't be any drama.»

Sherlock tried to prop himself on his elbows. Didn't work. He accompanied the injection with some curses, who only caused his brother to smile.

It took less than five minutes for Sherlock to be completely asleep. Mycroft watched the men bring his brother away, without feeling the slightest guilt. Sherlock would have hated him. He'd wake up, remember what had happened and curse him.

But it didn't matter, now, did it?

It was his job to keep his little brother safe. Even if Sherlock didn't want him to.


End file.
